Unsteady
by whitchry9
Summary: Cabin Pressure. Written for a prompt. While in New Zealand on a (mostly) vacation, an earthquake hits. With half of the crew near the epicentre, and the other half a safe distance away, learning of the destruction in horror, what will become of the crew of MJN. And most importantly, is Gerti safe? 10 chapters.
1. Chapter 1

It was just their luck that New Zealand would have an earthquake the very day they go to visit, not even because of a job (mostly anyway), but for an actual vacation. (Of course, it could have been worse, they could have just been coming in to land and been sent away because of the tremors, only to fall in the ocean as they ran out of fuel. But that was worrying, something that Douglas should very well leave to Martin since he was the master.)

* * *

Speaking of Martin, Douglas almost wished he was there now. Instead he was trapped with Arthur in a dubiously constructed hotel while the ground threatened to crumble beneath them.

Not his best day, he had to admit, but so far, not the worst either.

And really, he only wished for Martin because he would know what to do. Martin probably knew what to do in every situation, no matter how obscure or impossible. Hell, the man probably knew what to do it you ever shook hands in the wrong order with some little tribe in Africa. Of course, he'd never shake hands in the wrong order, but that's besides the point.

Douglas was almost wishing Martin was there.

But he wasn't. Martin and Carolyn had left about an hour ago, heading off somewhere to do something. He probably should have paid more attention, but he could have hardly counted on an earthquake to ruin things.

Douglas was unused to the universe misbehaving for him. That was supposed to be a Martin thing.

* * *

One minute Arthur was chatting to the receptionist about the amount of sheep New Zealand possessed, a fact that he was sure would delight his mother, considering Herc's phobia of them, and the next, the ground was unsteady beneath their feet. Unsurprisingly, it was something Douglas had experienced before, but to a far less extent than this. He only had time to run for the archway, dragging Arthur behind him before they collapsed to the ground and the building crumpled.


	2. Chapter 2

It was hellish, the air full of dust and god knows what else from the walls of that building, as the earthquake tore the old hotel apart. (That had to be what it was, of course. An earthquake. New Zealand was on a fault line, wasn't it? Another thing Martin would know.)

It seemed to last forever, although logically, Douglas knew it couldn't have been more than a minute, probably only a half a minute, but time stretched like taffy when things went wrong. It was never enough time to do anything, only to panic about what was happening.

* * *

The earth finally stilled and Douglas clambered back to his feet. He catalogued his limbs. Nothing seemed broken, nothing overly hurt, more of just an overall ache that he was sure would develop into one giant bruise, but nothing too serious.

"Arthur?" he called as the dust settled. He somehow managed to sneak out of Douglas' grasp. Heaven forbid he lose Arthur, Carolyn would kill him.

"Right here Douglas," he chirped.

Douglas clutched his sleeve. "Are you alright?" he asked, scanning him for injuries and struggling to see much of anything.

"Well, my arm hurts a lot. And my shoulder feels... funny. I don't know if it hurts... I suppose it does, but something else. And my head hurts. I think something fell on it."

"Alright. Did you black out?"

"I don't think so. It was all sort of... rumbly. I can't tell. Where's Phil?"

"Who?"

"The guy I was talking to. The receptionist."

Douglas' heart sank. He didn't see signs of anyone else being there, and if they were, they weren't calling out.

He made his way over to where the man had been, only to find him half buried in rubble, a large post covering most of his chest and torso. He wasn't moving.

"Stay there Arthur," Douglas ordered. He didn't need to see this, if it was as Douglas suspected, that the poor man was dead, and if not yet, very close.

Douglas knelt down to feel for a pulse.

Arthur watched anxiously, bleeding from a wound on his temple. "Is he alright?"

Douglas stood up again and grabbed the wrist of Arthur's uninjured arm. "Come on. We have to get out of here."

"Are you gonna carry him?" Arthur asked, brilliantly naive. Bless him.

"No..." Douglas sighed.

"So we're going to go get help?"

Douglas shook his head.

Arthur only looked confused.

"Arthur," Douglas said firmly. "You can't help him."

Arthur only stared at the man who had just been speaking with him only moments before. "But... but..." he stuttered.

"No Arthur," Douglas said again, more kindly this time. "That man has died. But you are hurt and we need to get you to a hospital."

Arthur nodded and allowed Douglas to lead him out of the wreckage, obviously still in shock.


	3. Chapter 3

They stood in the street, momentarily dazed by the wreckage that had been a street just a short while ago. While not everything was destroyed like Douglas had thought it would be, it was still a lot to take in, cracks in the ground, downed telephone poles, halves of building crumpled or twisted.

_Hospital. Focus, _he reminded himself.

"If only we knew where a bloody hospital was..." Douglas muttered, looking around and attempting to find a signal with his phone.

"Oh!" Arthur said, perking up slightly. "I have that guidebook."

Douglas grinned. "You know what you are Arthur?"

"A clot?"

"Well, yes, but not today. Today you are _brilliant_."

Arthur beamed as Douglas flipped through the guidebook.

* * *

They'd just begun trudging off to the hospital, only a few blocks away from where they were staying, when Arthur made an observation.

"You're bleeding Douglas."

Douglas glanced down to see what had gotten Arthur confused, only to find that he was indeed bleeding. His hand came away wet and sticky after he pressed it to his shirt.

"It seems I am."

"Are you alright?"

Douglas could have laughed. Here was Arthur with a probably dislocated shoulder, broken arm, numerous cuts and bruises, and a likely concussion, and he was asking Douglas if he was alright.

"Just a little blood," he assured him. "Nothing to worry about."

Arthur frowned, but nodded. It worried Douglas, since normally that would have been something Arthur would have put up a fight about.

Shock. Must be.

The poor man had been through more in the last couple of minutes than he'd likely ever been in his whole life. (Except for perhaps that time in St Petersburg, but Arthur had the bonus of being accidentally drunk. Somehow the shock and alcohol cancelled each other out. Funny how that worked.)

* * *

"D'you think Gerti's alright?" Arthur asked.

Douglas glanced at him. Trust Arthur to worry about his aeroplane when he was injured.

"Absolutely."

"Really?" Arthur said, perking up considerably.

Douglas wished he could say yes.

"No," he admitted. "But I think she'll be fine."

Arthur drooped and nodded.


	4. Chapter 4

The hospital came into sight after impossibly long minutes spent trudging through the streets of Christchurch, surrounded by wreckage and other people. Douglas felt a sense of responsibility to help them, but knew that he really couldn't, and had to take care of Arthur first.

* * *

The A&E department was busy, a horde of people clutching tissues to cuts, clasping broken limbs to their chest, and just looking shocked in general. Douglas got Arthur checked in at the triage, where he was given a yellow tag and told to sit down and wait.

"Are you sure you don't need anything hon?" The triage nurse had asked, eyeing his bloody shirt.

"I'm fine," he reassured her, and went to sit with Arthur. And he was. And if he wasn't, he would be. Douglas was hardly unselfish, but in this case, when he could see the horrific aftermath of the earthquake, worried mothers rushing in with bloodied babies, screaming at the top of their little lungs, he felt that both he and Arthur could wait to be seen.

* * *

And so they did. It didn't take that long for them to be seen, Arthur given a gurney in a hallway and an order for x-rays, which the nurse promised she'd take him for as soon as she could.

Douglas hovered beside him, not quite sure what to do, a feeling he was not used to.

"Are you sure you're alright Douglas? That seems like quite a lot of blood," Arthur chirped.

Douglas looked down at his shirt. It was a dark colour to begin with, but he couldn't remember it being so saturated.

He struggled to unbutton it with shaky fingers (thank god Martin wasn't here to see that) and managed to pull the fabric aside to see a large wound on the left side of his abdomen.

"Oh," he said faintly, and that was that.

But Douglas Richardson most definitely did _not _pass out.

He just... collapsed onto a gurney.

Very different.


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur was scared.

He was alone, he was hurting, he didn't know if Douglas was dead or not, and since he wasn't family, they wouldn't tell him anything.

Douglas'd just gone and gotten all floppy, and the next thing Arthur knew he was on a bed with all sorts of rushing around. Then he was hurried away, and the nurse was just left reassuring him that everything was fine, except she couldn't have known that because she wasn't there. Honestly, he wasn't stupid.

But then there drugs and x-rays and more drugs and some foggy bits and he woke up to find his shoulder fixed and his arm in a cast and the cut on his head sewn up. He almost wished he'd gotten to see that. He wondered if they'd used needles like Mum did when she sewed up the holes in his pants. Probably not. And he wished they'd let him pick the colour for the cast. He would have picked something cool, like glow in the dark, and not just a boring white colour.

Boring cast, Douglas could be dead, Mum and Skip were... well he didn't even know where they were, which made it that much worse. Plus there was that poor dead man who'd been in the hotel with them.

Arthur sniffled loudly.

He didn't even know he was crying until a nice lady came over with some tissues for him.

"And I don't even know where Mum and Skip are, and Douglas could even be dead, because he just sort of fell over from bleeding, and I told him he was bleeding, but he didn't listen because I'm a clot," Arthur said tearfully.

The lovely woman just wrapped him in a hug, careful not to hurt his arm or shoulder and soothed him while he sniffled on her shoulder. It was nice. Like when Mum used to hold him when he was little and sick. A cuddly wrap.

* * *

And so Arthur tried to make himself look less icky and messy, wiping his face on the tissues while waiting for the woman to come back.

He realized he didn't even know her name. Arthur bet it was a nice name, soft and warm just like her.

He liked when people fit their names, like they sort of became them and were one. Those were the best kind of names.

So she came back and told him that Douglas had gone to surgery, but it was going to go just fine, because he'd gotten to a hospital in time. Arthur sniffled some more, but he was mostly all sort of fuzzy from the drugs and must have fallen asleep.

He just wished Mum and Skip could have been there. Just so he could make sure they were alright.


	6. Chapter 6

Martin and Carolyn had gone to Ashburton for the day, Carolyn renting a car and Martin riding shotgun, still confused as to why he was being dragged along. Honestly, it was like the whole Uskerty incident all over again.

Carolyn had mostly remained silent for the whole ride, and Martin actually wished Arthur was there, for some sort of distraction, be it yellow car or something else entirely.

"Why didn't you just bring Arthur?" Martin asked finally.

Carolyn glared at him. "Didn't I tell you? This is _for _Arthur. I couldn't have brought him along."

"No, you didn't tell me," Martin sighed. "What is it anyway?"

"There is a man outside of Ashburton who does marvellous work with models. I emailed him a while ago to see if he could make Arthur a scale model of Gerti, except without the broken bits. He agreed. I did try others first, ones that were actually within Europe, but none of them agreed to it. They claimed to not have heard of the plane. So we are going to pick it up. It's his birthday present."

Martin looked at Carolyn. She seemed serious. "You could have just told me that," he pointed out.

Carolyn only sniffed indignantly.

"And how long will it take to get there?"

"Oh... about a half hour yet."

Martin groaned. "So we'll get there at what, half past twelve? Then it'll be another hour back, at least."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you have plans for today?"

"No," he grumbled.

Carolyn hummed at him and Martin slouched down in his seat, looking for yellow cars. He wasn't going to make this trip any more pleasant than it had to be.


	7. Chapter 7

He had to admit, the trip was worth it. The model was marvellous, complete with moving parts that were actually supposed to move, not broken off and sort of moving. He knew Arthur would love it.

It was also like Uskerty in that the man invited them in and gave them coffee and packaged biscuits. (Far better than the seed cake, as they both ate them this time.)

Martin just tried to smile while Carolyn grilled the man, who was oddly resistant. It was sort of magical.

At the end of the cups, all Carolyn had managed to get from him was that Mr Nigel, seemed rather nice and was from American. He didn't go into details about how he ended up in New Zealand making toy aeroplanes.

"Well, thank you Mr Nigel," she said cheerfully, standing up. "This was lovely, and the plane is perfect. Arthur will adore it. However, we must be going now."

Martin followed suit and stood up as well.

It was then that the ground began to rumble.

Martin braced himself against the door frame as the ground trembled beneath him. Carolyn nearly fell over, halfway down the steps. She clutched the railing.

"What," she breathed, "the _hell_ was that?"

Mr Nigel looked at her. "Earthquake," he said grimly.

Martin only gaped at him. "An earthquake?"

He nodded. "New Zealand is on a fault line. They're pretty common. I think this one's a bit bigger than the last few though. Depends where the epicentre was. Maybe in the water, or maybe just further down the coast." He shrugged.

"Oh god," Martin said, realizing the full gravity of the situation. "Oh god. Oh god. Arthur and Douglas. D'you think they're alright?"

"I don't know Martin," Carolyn replied, gritting her teeth. "But we're going to find out. Thank you ever so much for the plane Mr Nigel."

"Of course," he replied graciously, shaking her hand. "And I hope your friends are alright."

"As do I," Carolyn said.

Martin couldn't help but feel Carolyn was saying it in a way that made it sound like a threat, like she would tear the whole of New Zealand apart looking for someone or something to blame if they weren't.

Martin didn't find it entirely unbelievable.

* * *

Carolyn drove back the entire way with her hands gripped tight on the wheel, so much that Martin worried she'd have no feeling in her fingers when they arrived.

She managed the hour and a bit journey in only 45 minutes, a feat which terrified Martin almost as much as the thought of what could have happened to Douglas and Arthur in the earthquake. Martin had rather feared for his life, but feared just as much to say something. Lesser of two evils. Or maybe it was the evil you know, rather than the unknown evil.

He could never tell.


	8. Chapter 8

With a great deal of difficulty, they made their way to the hotel that they'd been staying at. The structure was still standing, but interior walls and columns had collapsed.

"Oh god," Carolyn muttered. She stumbled as she tried to step forward. "Oh god," she repeated. She attempted to step forward again.

"No Carolyn," Martin said, grabbing her by the shoulders. "We can't go in. It's not safe. Douglas is clever, remember. He would have gotten Arthur out, and if they were fine, they would have waited here for us. They probably went to the hospital. So we just have to go there, yeah?"

Carolyn glared at him, and Martin removed his hands.

"That may be the case, but still."

Martin straightened up slightly and fixed a gaze on her that may have come across as impressive to anyone else. "Carolyn, you may not like it, but I am the captain, and I'm trained to act under pressure. You are not. So I suggest that you listen to me."

"Martin, that may be true, but we are talking about Arthur, my lovely clot of a son, and there is no telling-"

"No, look. All we have to do is find the nearest hospital, and they should be there," he explained, taking his backpack off and unzipping it. He rummaged around in it for a moment before groaning. "Arthur has my guidebook."

"Well, then he shouldn't have gotten lost on his way to the hospital."

Martin frowned. "Are we talking about the same Arthur?"

Carolyn only sighed.

* * *

It took them a while, but they finally came into sight of the hospital nearest to the hotel. The A&E was a madhouse, nurses rushing everywhere, and people sitting with bandages pressed to wounds, the blood long having since stopped flowing heavily, but people still too shocked to do anything but hold the gauze there.

With Martin in tow, Carolyn marched over to the desk.

"Hello," she announced. "I'm looking for my son, and a colleague. Arthur Shappey and Douglas Richardson. Do you have patients by either of those names here?"

The nurse at the desk looked shocked, but perhaps was too tired to argue. She checked her computer.

"They're on the fourth floor. Head up there, and you'll be able to find someone to help you."

Carolyn smiled. It was almost frightening. "Thank you."

She turned on her heel and dragged Martin up the stairs by his tie.

Instead of stopping to ask again once they were on the fourth floor, Carolyn marched up and down the halls, peeking in rooms.

Martin was less than amused. "Carolyn, perhaps we should just ask, this hospital is rather large and-" He stopped short when Carolyn stood in front of a doorway, looking smugly at him. "Never mind," he sighed.


	9. Chapter 9

She strode into the room purposefully. Douglas was lying in the bed, unconscious, or perhaps just sleeping and Arthur was sprawled in a chair next to the bed. He perked up when they came in.

"Mum? Skip? I missed you!"

He nearly tripped getting up out of the chair, and awkwardly tried to hug both of them. He failed, nearly knocking Martin unconscious with a blow to the head.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "I'm fine. Mostly. And I'm pretty sure Douglas is fine too, even though he had to have surgery, because he fell over, because he didn't listen when I told him he had blood on him." He paused. "I suppose you should ask the doctor, since when the nurse told me, I was a bit drugged at the time."

"Arthur," Carolyn said firmly, holding her son at arm's length. "Martin and I are both fine. What happened to you? Did you break your arm?"

Arthur looked down at his arm, still in the sling. "Oh, yeah. And my shoulder was hurt too, but it feels better now. There was an earthquake!"

Carolyn took a deep breath before answering, and Martin choked back a giggle.

"Yes, I'm aware there was an earthquake. We felt it too, although nothing like it was here. Now Arthur. Tell me what happened."

"Right. So me and Douglas were in the hotel, and I was talking to Phil about sheep, because I thought you could tell Herc, since he would like that. But then the ground sort of..." he made a motion with his hands, as much as he could, and made a rumbling noise before continuing. "And then it was dusty and I couldn't see Douglas, but he called me, and then he found me. And by then my arm was sort of hurting and funny, and Douglas figured we should go to the hospital. But then I wanted to make sure Phil was okay, except Douglas said..." he paused to take a shaky breath. "Douglas said that he was dead, and that we had to go. I wasn't a clot though, because I remembered I had Martin's guidebook, so then we walked to the hospital. And then I got a tag and Douglas didn't, but then Douglas fell over, so that was even faster than getting a tag. And then I don't remember much until I woke up with the cast and Douglas was missing." Arthur finished the rest of his speech in a single breath, and stood there looking at them expectantly.

"Well," Carolyn said slowly. "It certainly sounds like an eventful day."

Arthur nodded.

"So, what happened to Douglas then?"

Arthur scratched his head with the arm not in the sling. "I'm still not exactly sure. There was blood? I'll be right back."

Carolyn and Martin watched him go.

"Well, he seems to be doing well enough," Martin said faintly.

"True," Carolyn agreed. She glanced back at Douglas. "I suppose he is too considering."

Martin nodded as Arthur returned with a woman in tow. She was dressed in scrubs.

"Hello, you must be the rest of the airline. Arthur told me all about you." She smiled. "I suppose you were wondering what had happened to Mr Richardson here."

They nodded, and she continued.

"He was impaled by a large piece of metal, whatever it came from we can't be sure, but it went clean through. He was lucky it didn't hit any internal organs. He did suffer a lot of blood loss, but we took him to surgery to examine the damage and sew him up, and he's doing a lot better now. He's still unconscious, but that is due to the anaesthetic rather than anything you need to worry about." She smiled reassuringly at them, especially Arthur, as she finished checking the monitors around the bed and making notes on a clipboard.

"Thanks Melinda," he chirped, and she gave him another smile before she left.

Carolyn raised an eyebrow. "On a first name basis with the nurses are you Arthur?"

"She gave me a hug when I was crying," Arthur replied simply. "It was nice."

"Of course," Carolyn muttered. "Now, if you can do without me for a few minutes, I'm going to see if I can call the airport. Check on the status of Gerti... and the airport itself."

She swooped out in a cloud of anger and relief.


	10. Chapter 10

Douglas woke up while Carolyn was out of the room. It took him a couple minutes, first just blinking, staring up at the ceiling as if it was something fascinating. Perhaps it was. Then he managed to roll his head to the side and blink at Arthur, who was beaming at him. Martin had managed to keep him quiet up until then, but he couldn't help but let out a little chirp of excitement at seeing his beloved first officer awake and doing well.

"Calm down there Arthur," Martin said dryly.

Arthur tried to contain his excitement and waited for Douglas to say something.

"I told you I was fine Arthur," he said finally, stretching his jaw muscles.

"Douglas, you collapsed onto a gurney and left me alone."

"Well, I apologize about that, but we're both fine now. And our beloved captain is here. Now, where is our Sir?"

At the mention of her name, Carolyn swept back into the room.

"Some good news," she announced. "Gerti is fine. The airport's not, so we won't be flying out any time soon, but she's fine."

"Told you," Douglas smirked at Arthur.

"Well, yeah, but still. You were only trying to make me feel better," Arthur said defensively.

Martin snorted. "So, you're telling me that as you walked down the street, bleeding, as you looked for a hospital, you tried to assure Arthur that everything would be fine?"

"That's about how it went, Skip," Arthur confirmed.

"Well, look who woke up," Carolyn noted, glaring at Douglas as though he planned it that way. He very well may have.

"I'm thrilled to see you as well Carolyn. Glad you weren't hurt," Douglas commented dryly.

Carolyn rolled her eyes. "Yes, it's great you're not dead. Martin can't fly home alone."

"I'm fine too, by the way," Martin added.

"Very fine indeed," Douglas replied.

Martin frowned.

"I'm mostly fine!" Arthur added. "Pretty much. Nearly. Well, I will be in a bit." He frowned.

"Of course you will be, dear," Carolyn sighed. "You've had your share of broken bones."

Arthur perked up. "That is true. I can add this one to the collection, even if it is a bit dull."

Martin smiled. "Oh, can I sign your cast Arthur? Might make it more interesting."

"Of course," he beamed. "Melinda even gave me a couple of markers to carry around."

Carolyn sighed. "Arthur, you have a strange way with... well, everyone. Completely insufferable and yet overly endearing."

Arthur perhaps chose to ignore his mother's comment, or more likely didn't know what it meant, and instead handed Martin blue, yellow, and black permanent markers.

"Erm, just so you know Arthur, I'm not exactly good at drawing, but, I'll try," Martin stammered.

Douglas smirked. "My captain, as eloquent as ever."

"Shut up Douglas. You'll get your turn," Martin hissed.

* * *

In the end, Arthur ended up with a replica of Gerti (drawn by Douglas, who, as always, was infuriatingly good at whatever he tried), an attempt at a pilot's insignia (by Martin, who was just as not good as he claimed), and Carolyn's signature.

And on the plane ride home, nearly two weeks later, he kept himself occupied by doodling on it. (And when Martin asked what the vaguely rat shaped thing was, Arthur managed to not sound very offended as he explained it was Snoopadoop.)

* * *

And when it was finally Arthur's birthday, he was absolutely thrilled with the aeroplane. So thrilled, in fact, that Carolyn had to make him sit down and remember to breathe, lest he pass out and rebreak his arm.


End file.
